


Doctor's Orders

by lixabiz



Series: Clothing Optional [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Playing Doctor, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Sonic Screwdriver Makes An Appearance, Stethoscope, Tentoo Gets Lucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lixabiz/pseuds/lixabiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthday fic for the lovely tinyconfusion over on Tumblr. Absolutely nothing except porn here. Happy Birthday Jenny!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor's Orders

Trouble was brewing, and it was evident in the look on the Doctor’s face. His brow was furrowed terribly, and he had that look in his eyes, all hard and dark and _uh-oh_ , the same look that could make even Daleks and Cybermen across the galaxies tremble with fear. He’d burst into the room without warning, looking very stern and Science-y in a white lab coat thrown over his blue suit. Brainy specs perched on his nose completed the ensemble and Rose found herself appreciating the view very, very much. Normally she’d take great delight in teasing him about it; flirtatiously, of course, and see where that might lead, but at the moment the Doctor was Clearly Not In The Mood. 

It had been two whole days since Rose had last seen him. She leapt to her feet and gulped, feeling a flash of trepidation as he locked the door with a click and crossed to her side. The examination room was empty save for the two of them, along with all the medical equipment anybody could ever need. Given that this was Torchwood, they needed it a lot, and quite often.

“Just for the record,” Rose said, as he drew near, speaking quickly before he could, “I’m _fine_.“

The crease in his brow grew deeper.

"Hey, look, see? Just dandy,” she said again, lifting both arms and waggling her fingers at him. “All in perfect working order!”

He stared so intensely Rose thought his eyes might pop out of their sockets.

“Stop that. You’re putting me off my inoculation medication.”

Near drowning aside, she hadn’t really been in a whole lot of danger, but exposure to the potentially-rife-with-alien-plant-spores river water meant she had to be careful. The immune-system-boosting concoction was best absorbed in liquid form, but it had an unpleasant taste and went down foul.

“I’m honestly fine,” Rose told him again, making a face as she swallowed.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” said the Doctor grimly.

“You gonna check me over or something?” she asked, trying for levity.

The Doctor gave her a brief, impassive glance, just a flick of his eyes before he settled his gaze back on her throat and chest.

Blimey, he was being serious, wasn’t he? She got into scrapes all the time, working for Torchwood, and had been in worse situations back when she’d traveled with him. Yet there was a distinct lack of humour in her half-alien… what was he, again? Boyfriend? Paramour? Lover and live-in partner? She settled on the truest of descriptions, simply ‘her Doctor’, and sighed, wondering what had him all bent out of shape. Usually, upon returning from a mission, the Doctor greeted her with exuberant smiles and bouncy joviality. Not so much today.

“Unbutton your blouse and remove it, and then sit on the examination bed.” His voice was stern, professional.

Rose stared at him, nonplussed.

“Didn’t you hear what I said, Agent Tyler?”

_Agent Tyler…_

He shot her a look, and there it was… that hidden gleam in his eyes… one that she recognized.

“Sit, and don’t move.”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” she said in sudden understanding, as he moved to a table to his left, one laden with various bits of equipment. “You’re going to _examine_ me.”

Apparently, he _was_ In The Mood, after all.

With a mixture of amusement, relief, and excitement, Rose followed her orders. She undid the buttons of her shirt but left it on as she perched herself carefully on the edge of the reclining bed. It was high, waist level with the Doctor, which meant her feet dangled above the ground as she sat and waited.

From behind, in his white coat, he looked like a proper Doctor, the medical kind. The illusion was complete when he turned around again. Rose almost laughed with delight, but managed somehow to keep herself in check. Biting the inside of her cheek, she said, “You have a stethoscope.”

“I do.” The listening device hung around his neck idly. Still serious, he approached the examination bed. “Straighten your shoulders. No slouching. I need to check your vitals.”

“Do you?” She grinned. “Okie dokie.”

He checked her pulse, fingers warm against her neck. “Agent Tyler, your heart is racing. You’ve been over-exerting yourself.” The Doctor clucked his tongue. “Lymph nodes normal, no swelling. No infection.”

“I’m not sick,” said Rose.

“Say 'ah’,” he instructed, holding up a flat wooden stick.

“Ahhh,” said Rose. The tongue depressor was cold and tasted vaguely bitter. She wrinkled her nose in displeasure, and hoped he’d actually taken one from a new box and not just found it laying about.

“What’s wrong?”

“My mouth’s dry,” she said. “I can still taste the inoculation stuff.”

“You did drink it all, like a good girl. You deserve a reward.” The Doctor nodded, looking thoughtful. He reached behind him and pulled open a drawer at the base of the exam table.

“Here,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards ever so slightly with the barest hint of a smirk, “-you can suck on this.”

“Nice,” she snickered, taking the lolly from him. It was bright red, strawberry flavour. She tore off the wrapper and popped it into her mouth, swirling the hard, sweet candy around several times before pulling it back out, wet and glistening. Then, very deliberately, she flicked her tongue out and licked it, once, twice.

The Doctor swallowed. “That’s tasty, then, is it?”

“Yep.”

“Right. You keep on enjoying that sucker while I make sure you’re in good condition.”

From the table he retrieved a small wooden hammer, and tested her knee reflexes with it.

“Good, normal.”

“Feels funny,” confessed Rose. “Never had that done before.”

“Is that so?” He tutted. “Regular checkups are highly recommended, especially for someone in your line of work.” He flexed her elbow, ostensibly checking for fluid range of motion. “And by regular I mean often. And by often I mean daily. Which shouldn’t be a problem, considering you happen to live with your favourite Doctor. Except you do have the unfortunate habit of going off for several days in a row at a moment’s notice-”

“You do too,” she pointed out as he tugged her shirt down, baring her shoulders and arms.

The big, discoloured bruise on her bicep was visible now, and the Doctor noticed it immediately, his face darkening at the sight.

“I’m fine,” she said tenderly, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Doesn’t hurt a bit.”

He caught her hand and kissed her wrist.

“I’m a better field agent than you are, you know,” she added, for good measure. “I’m reliable. Dad says so.”

The Doctor snorted into her palm, kissing it, too.

“Can I get on with this examination, now?”

Instead of answering, Rose kissed him. He reciprocated eagerly, letting their tongues tangle and slide against one another. Just when it was getting good, really good, a disruption came.

A knock at the door intruded on their kiss, and they broke apart, flushed. The Doctor pulled Rose’s blouse together, looking moody and irritable, and began buttoning it up as Jake’s voice rang out from the other side of the door.

“You can go home now,” he said loudly. “Please go home and do, uh, whatever you’re doing in there at home. Okay?”

—-

 

They made it back to the flat in record time, breaking several traffic laws in the process - not that Rose cared even a little bit. The Doctor dragged her into the bedroom, where Rose took charge of the situation, shoving him unceremoniously down onto the bed. She climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, and undid her blouse again, ridding herself of the bloody thing at last.

The Doctor gave a hum of approval, hands moving to her hips. “Now, where were we?”

“You were checking my vitals,” she reminded him.

“Oh yes,” he said, nodding, “Your vitals. That’s very vital. As I recall, I’d just got to about here-” He reached up to cup her breasts, thumbs moving over the soft cotton covering her nipples, “-Before we were ever so rudely interrupted.”

“Mm,” said Rose in agreement.

“Now, to facilitate my examination, I’ll need you to remove this undergarment, Miss Tyler. It’s in the way.”

She’d gone from Agent to Miss, which meant he was definitely starting to get impatient. Rose reached behind her and unfastened her bra, letting it drop to the floor.

He was still wearing the stethoscope, and lifted the end of it to the revealed flesh of her breasts. The cold metal of the instrument passing over her nipples made them tighten and pucker.

The Doctor nodded, as if satisfied, and said, “Lie back, please,” before proceeding to give Rose a thorough chest examination, throughout which he kept up a very dirty, and very entertaining litany of medical innuendo which bordered on genius, if obscene. Whenever Rose thought she’d break character, the Doctor would bend his head and capture a distended nipple with his lips, forcing little cries out of her that had nothing to do with laughter.

“You’ll have to remove these, too,” he said gravely, tugging at her jeans. “They are most certainly in the way.”

They came off, and so did her boots and knickers. The Doctor rubbed his hands together briskly, like a businessman at a buffet. “I’d better take a closer look,” he said, and dropped to his knees. Rose giggled.

He started at her toes, massaging each one, and hummed under his breath as he rubbed her instep. “Toe bone’s connected to the foot bone, foot bone’s connected to the heel bone-” The Doctor nipped at her left ankle, and Rose giggled again, enjoying the silly ditty. “Heel bone’s connected to the ankle bone…” He went on, kissing and massaging, eyebrow lifting as he reached her thigh, “Thigh bone’s connected to the…”

Rose held her breath, as the Doctor laid the tiniest of kisses on her pelvic bone. He reached for the diaphragm of the stethoscope still dangling from his neck and held it to her thigh, pretending to listen to the rush of blood coursing through her femoral artery.

“Pulse elevated,” he said, and reached down to swipe his tongue, once, against her heated folds. “Heightened response to tactile stimuli… showing signs of, ah, increased lubrication in affected area-”

Rose smacked him on the shoulder, blushing despite herself. The Doctor was wholly unrepentant, and continued to lick her, slowly, as she squirmed and gasped.

“Now, we don’t usually use this procedure, it’s only done during desperate cases. But this,” he paused, raking his eyes over the damp curls between Rose’s legs and making her belly tense, “Seems to be a desperate case, indeed.”

He threw the stethoscope over his shoulder, careless of where it might land. It clattered to the floor a few feet away, discarded and forgotten as the Doctor reached into his lab coat and pulled out his new model sonic screwdriver.

“What-”

He set the tip to the valley between Rose’s breasts, moving it slowly down, over her sternum and soft abdomen. Without so much as a flick of the wrist, he turned it on and pressed the vibrating tip further down, right onto Rose’s clit.

She gasped and bucked, head falling back as he pushed her knees apart wider, insinuating himself between her legs. The fingers of his free hand slid over her wet folds, and then pushed inside, slowly, thrusting in and out as the sonic continued to drive her mad with pleasure.

She wanted to come, but more than that, she wanted to give him pleasure, too. Her hand darted out between their bodies, and tugged on his zipper, slipping inside to cup him. He was rock hard, and the garbled sound that came from his throat at her touch told her he was close to the edge.

His fingers faltered, pausing inside her as Rose carefully pulled him free of the constriction of his pants. She pushed his trousers down his hips, and wrapped her hand around the slightly pulsing length, stroking him up and down with her palm.

“Is that good?” she asked, her voice husky.

“That’s good,” he gasped, dropping his head to her shoulder, shuddering as she gripped him tighter and stroked faster.

He came with a gasp, spurting against her hand and belly, somehow managing to keep the blunt tip of the sonic screwdriver pressed firmly against Rose. Her toes curled at the feeling of his cum on her skin and she came, too, pleasure rippling from her core outwards, in pulsing, gorgeous waves.

She fell back onto the bed and lay panting for breath. The Doctor shucked his trousers off the rest of the way and shed his shoes, lab coat and suit jacket. He seemed to lack the energy to remove his shirt, however, and simply collapsed next to her with a contented moan.

Drowsily, Rose remarked, “Was that your plan all along? Ambushing me as soon as I got back to headquarters?”

“Weeeeell, sort of,” he said, a shudder passing through him as Rose rolled to lie flush against his side, her hand coming to rest over his heart. “The sight of you on that cot gave me ideas. Do my best work on my toes, you know. Improv.”

“Don’t you just,” she agreed. He looked halfway to slumber, his eyes drifting shut. It was such a ridiculously bloke-like thing to do, falling asleep after sex. Rose poked him in his left pectoral. “Oi, are you asleep already?”

“Haven’t slept in two days,” he admitted after a moment, his voice rough with fatigue (and post-coital bliss, to be sure). Rose peered at him closely, and could see the weariness evident on his face - the dark circles beneath his eyes and the pallor of his skin. She made a sympathetic cooing sound, and stroked his chest in apology, which made his eyelids droop even further.

She kept up the caress as her breath evened out. Minutes later, he was fast asleep. Rose slipped out from under his arm and kissed him tenderly on the cheek, giggling as a sound that could only be described as a snore came from him.

She slipped out of bed, and into the bathroom. She didn’t fancy going to sleep covered in the remnants of pond scum that clung to her skin like an itchy, unwelcome suit.

His hand shot out, grabbing hold of her fingers. “Going somewhere?”

“Gonna take a shower, Doctor. I’ll be right back.”

He really must’ve been exhausted, because he nodded and drifted off again instead of offering to help her 'wash’ as was his custom. It was his favourite household duty, he maintained, keeping Rose clean, and he was so good at it she couldn’t complain.

—-

 

_Half an hour later…_

“Blimey, I went out like a light, didn’t I?”

The Doctor padded into the bathroom on his bare feet. His hair was an attractive disaster and he’d put his trousers back on. They were terribly wrinkled, as was his oxford, and Rose thought they belonged on the floor, or in the hamper, not on his body.

“Sorry 'bout that,” he said, the tips of his ears going slightly pink. Adorable. He eyed her with interest -  what he could see of her, anyway, and asked, “Feeling better?”

“Loads,” hummed Rose with a contented sigh.

He came over to the tub and perched on the rim, dipping a finger into the warm, bubbly water.

“Nice,” he commented, sniffing the lavender scented air. “I like a good bath.”

“Mmmm, me too.” Rose hummed and stretched, trying to reach a spot between her shoulder blades.

“Allow me,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

The Doctor took the washcloth from her and ran it across her shoulder in small, tender circles. She sighed and leaned forward, circling her legs with both arms and resting her chin on her knee so as to give him access to her back. Once he was finished with that, he drew away, dropping to kneel on the ground beside the tub.

“Lean back,” he instructed, and stroked the cloth down the column of her neck and across her clavicle. She felt the texture of it pass, gently, ever-so-slightly, over one breast, barely grazing the tip. She sucked in a breath.

The mood shifted suddenly, turning languid, a world removed from the eager and playful atmosphere of their earlier encounter. The Doctor was serious again, not playing physician but caretaker this time, fully intent on catering to Rose.

“Lift your leg and rest it on the edge of the tub,” he said, his voice deeper than it usually was. Rose blinked, slowly, and complied with his request, lifting her leg with silent protest from her sore muscles. The warm bath had helped somewhat with the aching, but it hadn’t lessened the bruises from where she’d fallen or the red marks from the sonar they’d used to scan for alien tech in the river.

She watched the Doctor’s jaw visibly tighten at the sight. He hadn’t noticed, earlier. “S'alright. It doesn’t hurt. It just looks bad.”

He fell silent and appeared to be brooding as he contemplated her ankle. Then, suddenly, he bent forward and kissed it, surprising her. The touch of his lips was so gentle she barely felt it - but it was enough to send a streak of pleasure down her spine. Rose closed her eyes.

Dipping the cloth into the foamy water, the Doctor resumed his task with single-minded concentration. He worked his way up, agonizingly slow, from the tip of her toes… over her calf… past her knee… reaching her sensitive inner thigh. Instinctively, her hips lifted, towards his touch, anticipation buzzing in her nerves.

“Doctor,” she gasped, as his hand dipped lower, the cloth brushing an intimate place between her legs. He repeated the motion. Again and again. Rose gripped the tub, her breathing quick and uneven.

She opened her eyes, saw him watching her closely, his eyes dark and full of intent. He dipped his hand again, and Rose deliberately arched her back to encourage him. Sucking in a harsh breath, the Doctor released the cloth and stroked her with his fingers. His long, talented fingers, so good at extracting pleasure from her very willing body.

“Please,” she moaned.

He reached for her breast with his free hand, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. She felt wanton, dizzy with desire. The water had cooled considerably and the soap bubbles had dissipated a great deal, leaving her completely exposed. Rose was too far gone to notice any of these things, but the Doctor wasn’t.

His gaze was pinned to the spot where he teased her. She felt him slide one finger in, and then another. He held her there, pinned to the tub, caught between heaven and agony.

She heard herself beg, her voice barely above a whimper, “Doctor, please-” and that seemed to break his intensely calm facade. He kissed her, hard, and thrust his fingers in and out, faster and faster. He didn’t stop, not even when she tore her mouth away from his, gasping for breath; his thumb making circles over her clit in a way that drove her to her climax.

“Love a good bath,” he said, withdrawing his hand once she came down from her high. He rested it on her knee. The curve of his mouth was equal parts smug and aroused. She kissed it, unable to help herself.

“There’s room for two in the tub,” Rose said lazily, feeling sated and soft.

His eyes flickered with interest. “But the water’s gone cold.”

Rose unhooked her leg from the edge of the tub and tugged at the plug with her toes, releasing it. The sudsy water began to drain, disappearing glug by glug until she was naked in an empty bathtub. She stood, slowly, the Doctor mirroring her, rising from his knees.

She turned on the shower, letting the hot spray engulf her. “There you are. Problem solved. Shower’s just as good as a bath, in a pinch.”

“That’s what I like about you, Rose Tyler. You’re well-versed in domestic solutions.”

“Thanks.” She held out her hand, a wicked smile on her face. “Well, come on in, then! I ought to return the favour.”

The Doctor nodded, muttering, “That would only only fair,” and shucked off his clothes in record speed.

Rose leaned back against the tiles, watching as he stepped out of his pants, hardened cock twitching. Two steps later he was gathering her into his arms under the hot spray.

“You’re gorgeous,” he told her, running his hand down her side to her bum and squeezing.

“You too,” she replied.

“Now,” he said, voice dripping with delicious intent, “Shall you start with my back, or do you fancy having a go with the front, first?”

“Both, please,” said Rose, pertly.

The Doctor grinned, pressing a kiss to her throat. His lips were warm and wet and perfect, and the feel of him hard against her thigh gave her a wicked thrill.

It was all very good, very hot, and things were progressing quite nicely, reaching a fevered pitch - Rose was ready for the Doctor press her against the chilly tiles and take her right there. He’d even gone so far as to hitch her up around his waist, bracing her bottom with both hands, a surprising display of physical strength she didn’t expect from him - when he very nearly lost his footing.

Wide-eyed, flailing and vaguely embarrassed, the Doctor set Rose down.

“Bed,” they said, in unison, and scrambled out of the shower, very nearly slipping again.

Neither of them particularly cared to dry themselves off with the towel Rose had laid out on a nearby chair. Rose pushed the Doctor onto the bed and climbed onto him, again, this time intent on getting him inside her, properly. He planted his feet on the mattress, and arched his hips as Rose aligned herself, hovering just out of reach.

“Slow, later, yeah?” She didn’t wait for confirmation and simply sank down, inner muscles fluttering, and took him all the way inside. They moaned in sync, the sounds tangling together like complementary chords.

“Later,” he panted in agreement, mouth falling open as she rolled her hips in a figure-eight, moving slick and smooth as she gathered speed, fucking him with exquisite haste.

“Not gonna last,” he said, between gritted teeth.

_Me neither,_ thought Rose, and clenched around him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder to look down at him. The Doctor’s face was contorted with pleasure, his hot, half-lidded gaze fixated on guiding her movements with both hands on her hips, up and down and up and down and _fuck!_

She chanted his name, over and over, unable to help herself. The sound of _Doctor_ and _oh God_ spilling so pleasingly from her lips had the same effect on him it always had: it sent him into a deeper, even more frenzied chase for release. He groaned, a desperate sound from the very depths of his chest and the world spun quite suddenly.

In one swift move he flipped them, depositing Rose flat on her back on the bed, pinning her down by the wrists. Her legs fell open, cradling his hips, and he kissed her, hard, as he repositioned himself and thrust home once more.

Rose gasped and bucked, her hands clutching at the headboard that wasn’t there. She sunk her fingers into his hair instead, nails scratching against his scalp, making him whimper and thrust even harder. His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking a hot pattern against her skin that would leave a bruise later, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the hot, building peak between her legs where the Doctor pounded into her.

He kept the pace relentless, harder and harder, until her body couldn’t take anymore and suddenly Rose was screaming his name as white-hot pleasure flowed through her in voluptuous surges. The Doctor followed with one last thrust, pulsing inside her, mouth working against the side of her neck, his breath hot and shuddering. She pulled him close, wrapping her arms and legs around him as aftershocks zinged through them both.  

“That was bloody amazing,” he said, lifting his head from her shoulder, his eyes dreamy from the sensory overload. “You are bloody amazing.”

“Ta.”

“I’m thoroughly shagged. Completely spent.”

“Oh?” Rose tightened her muscles around him, not with actual intent, just to hear him gasp. She wasn’t disappointed.

“You succubus-!” He groaned, but there was utter delight in his strangled words, “You’re insatiable! You’ll be the death of me!”

“I was thinking,” said Rose, grinning as he gaped at her, “-that we should get a bath mat.”

—-


End file.
